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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24534814">Process of Elimination</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwastheclown/pseuds/iwastheclown'>iwastheclown</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskeyandspite/pseuds/whiskeyandspite'>whiskeyandspite</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blood and Violence, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Murder of course, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, hannibal is an asshole</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:15:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,878</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24534814</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwastheclown/pseuds/iwastheclown, https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskeyandspite/pseuds/whiskeyandspite</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Are you intending to let the heat run its course unaided?”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Will pursed his lips, watching Hannibal finish his own crepe and prepare it on the plate. He was ready to eat, but something gave him pause and told him he had to wait until Hannibal was ready. He put the silverware down. “Well,” he replied. “That’s kind of personal.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>-- Or, the one in which Hannibal has no idea how to court properly and Will "just needs" a temporary mate.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>639</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Process of Elimination</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>After years of loving ABO fics this is finally my first one. Hope you enjoy it! Also my first work in a long time collaborating with another author-- thank you to the amazing and talented whiskeyandspite!! :')</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was nothing that could have prepared Hannibal for the doorbell that interrupted his morning routine, or the way it revitalized him. This same situation had occurred once a few weeks before and now he had a strong feeling he knew exactly who it was. He abandoned his post at the stove to walk to the front door, only to once again see Will Graham standing on his porch. It brought a gentle smile to his lips, one that Will naturally felt inclined to return, but it was all wrong.</p><p>“Good morning,” Hannibal greeted.</p><p>“Sorry it’s so early.” But Dr. Lecter was already opening the door wider for him and Will, after a polite hesitation, bowed his head and came in.</p><p>“It’s perfectly alright. Would you like some breakfast?”</p><p> </p><p>Will leaned on the counter while Hannibal cooked a thin layer of batter into what would be the shell of a crepe. Nothing had changed in the comfortable atmosphere that consistently pervaded between Dr. Lecter and his patient, or in the silent certainty that both of them were always watching each other out of their peripherals. But something was clearly off. There was a shard out of place in the mirror that was usually Will Graham.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Hannibal asked eventually.</p><p>Will gave a small chuckle. “Why does anything have to be wrong?”</p><p>“Your cologne is especially strong,” Hannibal replied. “You’ve clearly taken more time to comb your hair this morning, but your posture is unusually poor. Just to name a few details.” He slid the crepe off the frying pan onto the plate next to him.</p><p>Will exhaled and watched Hannibal gather the strawberries he had pre-cut on a chopping board. The bowl of cream cheese next to it was homemade. “You have access to my medical records, I know.”</p><p>“I do.”</p><p>“So you know I’m an omega.” He hesitated on the word; he and Hannibal had never brought this up before, even in passing. Will guessed that Hannibal sensed his hesitation to give himself that label while the stigma around omegas in positions of power persisted. “I’ve been on suppressants for five years now and the last general practitioner I talked to recommended I let my heat run its course at least once every five years,” he explained. “Or risk complications.”</p><p>Hannibal looked up at his patient from where he was dusting the rolled crepe with powdered sugar.</p><p>“Hence, the cologne,” Will finished, gesturing vaguely to his chest. “I didn’t take my pill this morning.”</p><p>Hannibal stood up straight. “I see,” he replied evenly, though he was clearly taking great care to choose his words. “Then… how would you like my help?”</p><p>“Well, I need your official recommendation to take leave from work.” Will stifled a laugh. “A doctor’s note, if you will.”</p><p>A tick at the corner of Hannibal's mouth was his only movement for a moment. Then he sighed, releasing coiled up tension from his shoulders, and set Will's plate on the counter island between them with a fork from the drawer beside him.</p><p>"Of course," he said. "The standard note for such leave covers a week, but considering how your heats have been medically controlled for such a long time, perhaps you'd like it for longer."</p><p>"I'll trust your judgement," Will replied with a shrug. The motion was too fluid, lackadaisical, and Hannibal found himself enraptured. Perhaps the unfamiliar cologne, the admission between them, the suggestion that Will had either intentionally ignored or completely missed…</p><p>"Only an omega knows how their heats leave them feeling," Hannibal countered, turning back to the stove and lifting the pan to pour another ladleful of batter to it. He turned his wrist, the pan's surface already frying the crepe before he set the pan to the heat again. "For some, it is merely an inconvenience; for others it’s days of torment."</p><p>Will snorted, the sound far from amused, without an answer. Perhaps that was answer enough. Hannibal teased the edge of the crepe with his spatula while Will began to cut into his meal.</p><p>"Would you like a recommendation to a heat clinic along with a doctor’s note?"</p><p>Will's fork clattered to the plate and off it, landing with a sound sharp as a bell to the marble countertop beneath. "Shit—I'm—no. That won't be necessary."</p><p>“Then are you intending to let the heat run its course unaided?”</p><p>Will pursed his lips, watching Hannibal finish his own crepe and prepare it on the plate. He was ready to eat, but something gave him pause and told him he had to wait until Hannibal was ready. He put the silverware down. “Well,” he replied. “That’s kind of personal.”</p><p>“I apologize, but there is some risk attached to taking a purely naturalistic approach after a long period of abstinence. I only want to ensure your safety.”</p><p>Will thought about this while staring at the glowing red light of the stove. He knew that by going in-depth into this topic he was running the risk of allowing himself to be sexualized, and there was enough of that in the omega community as there was. But, assuring himself that Hannibal didn’t think like that and that this was just for health reasons, he suppressed his apprehensions and explained. “I was thinking about finding an alpha to temporarily help me through the heat,” he said. “That method has been getting more and more popular lately. It would be easier than going through it alone and, in my opinion at least, more personal than an omega clinic. I’ve been to one before. It wasn’t the best experience.”</p><p>“When is your heat scheduled to begin?”</p><p>“Four days.” Will paused. “Probably. I completely forgot about it until a few nights ago but that’s my best guess.”</p><p>“And how will you go about finding a responsible alpha in such a stringent time window?”</p><p>“I have my ways,” Will replied curtly.</p><p>Hannibal could tell he had stretched Will too far, and like a rubber band he was about to snap and withdraw from the subject, so Hannibal stopped pulling. He took up his own plate and Will straightened, obeying the silent cue that they were going to move locations. He reached for his breakfast but Hannibal picked it up for him as well and Will briefly thanked him while they transitioned to the dining room table.</p><p>In truth, Will had no <i>actual</i> plans set up for his heat. He knew of services that offered the equivalent of an escort for unmated omegas to soothe the ache of their heat, and he knew certain omegas who preferred to buy toys and use those in the comfort of their own homes. Hell, betas sometimes stepped in to help—there was no risk of pregnancy or unwelcome bonding that way, but satisfaction wasn't always guaranteed.</p><p>But satisfaction wasn't at the forefront of Will's mind at that moment.</p><p>Hannibal's implication in offering himself as a worthy stand-in hadn't gone unnoticed, Will just genuinely had no idea how to deny him point-blank; Hannibal was one of the rare people in his life he disliked denying things to. But taking up his offer opened an entire Pandora's box of potential awkwardness. He wasn't about to put a friendship on the line over something he was at the mercy of once every half-decade.</p><p>"Have previous heats been painful for you?" Hannibal asked.</p><p>Will's attention snapped back to the now, to the table they sat at, to his fork picking lazily at the breakfast Hannibal had made him. Will cleared his throat. "What makes you say that?"</p><p>"You're quiet," was all Hannibal offered in reply. "You usually talk through things of concern if they're a mere irritation. I made an assumption."</p><p>“You and your assumptions,” Will muttered with a dry chuckle. “Maybe I just don’t have anything to say.”</p><p>“Have you been nesting? That will ease the process.”</p><p>“I appreciate that you’re so concerned, but there’s no need.” He paused and then a cheeky smile pulled at his lips. “That is, unless you know someone who could help me.” He looked up and found that Hannibal’s eyes were already locked on him. “You know some responsible alphas. Perhaps a friend of yours?”</p><p>It was highly rare that anyone could provoke the crystal clear glimmer of anger Will saw flickering over Dr. Lecter’s cold stare. Perhaps it was just a minute change in his scent. Will’s instincts urged him to bow his head and apologize to the alpha he’d upset, but he wasn’t in heat yet and he could still keep his hormones under control. He stood his ground, stone-faced.</p><p>“May I make an observation?” Hannibal asked.</p><p>“Go ahead.”</p><p>“You could have easily come to my office this afternoon to ask me these same questions. Perhaps you wanted to bring the issue to my attention as soon as possible, but I also don’t think I’m wrong in observing an unusually obedient demeanor in you today.”</p><p>Will said nothing and looked down as he cut into his breakfast for the first time. The faster he finished, the sooner he could politely leave.</p><p>Still, he felt Hannibal’s eyes passing over him. “It’s perfectly natural to be craving the presence of an alpha in a time like this,” he said. “Especially wanting to enter into the safety and smell of an alpha’s home. You might trigger your heat earlier than you think.”</p><p>That was the last thing Will needed.</p><p>He hated how easily Hannibal could read him. Perhaps Will had a masochistic streak somewhere deep beneath the surface that inspired him to keep returning to Hannibal’s company rather than push him away as he had almost everyone else, dynamic be damned. He was about to counter, to give a paltry excuse that Hannibal would immediately see through, when his phone hummed in his pocket.</p><p>“Sorry.” Will set down his cutlery and tugged the thing free, catching the call before it could go to voicemail. “Graham.”</p><p>From Hannibal’s position, Jack’s voice filtered tinny and high, not clear enough to understand the words but certainly enough to understand the tone. He watched as Will’s expressions eased from mildly irritated, to displeased, to exhausted, to resigned. Just bare movements of tiny muscles beneath his skin, nothing more; a quirk of a brow, a twitch of his lip in a subtle suggestion of a snarl. Microexpressions that Will projected clearly for anyone patient enough to see.</p><p>Hannibal had the patience of a saint.</p><p>“Fine,” Will muttered finally, interrupting the otherwise ceaseless flow of Jack’s monologue. “No, I’ll be there sooner. I’m already in Baltimore. Yes. It doesn’t matter, Jack, I’ll be there.”</p><p>Neither said goodbye as they dropped the call. With a sigh, Will slipped his fingertips beneath his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose.</p><p>“Another case?”</p><p>“Unfortunately,” Will dropped his hand to the table again, taking up his fork. “No rest for the wicked.”</p><p>“Indeed. Shall I drive there with you?”</p><p>The thought of being in a confined space with Hannibal set Will’s teeth on edge, but the thought of saying no and thus implying that he had no self-control was even worse. “Sure,” he answered. “But I’m driving.” He knew he saw a smile pass over Hannibal’s face, out of the corner of his eye, but it went unacknowledged.</p><p> </p><p>Will successfully deflected small talk during the drive over, which was luckily only about 20 minutes away. He put the windows down so he didn’t feel quite as suffocated with Hannibal’s presence as before and put every ounce of his focus on the road.</p><p>They ended up in a quaint suburban neighborhood where the rows of upper middle class houses and trees gradually losing their yellow and green leaves made everything look picture perfect. However, one house in particular was blocked off with yellow tape and police cars sat huddled in the driveway. Some residents gathered at varying distances away from the scene with varying degrees of unease and others just watched from inside their homes.</p><p>Will parked as close as he could to the house and heads turned his way as soon as he stepped out. This wasn’t unusual; he and Hannibal carried the air of two people who were there for a reason and people often parted to make way for them. But there was something distinct and especially lingering about their stares while they made their way to the house that Will recognized without a doubt.</p><p>Suddenly Dr. Lecter’s face was extraordinarily close to his. “Some of your cologne has worn off,” he whispered.</p><p>“I noticed,” Will muttered as he jerked away to a better distance. “Nothing I can do about it now.” They headed up the incline through the freshly-cut lawn and Will flashed his badge to the officer guarding the door, who lifted up the tape and let them inside.</p><p>It didn’t take them any time to figure out why they were there. Past the entrance hall lined with family photos—a husband, wife, and son next to a tree; on a beach; in a photoshoot—was a man sitting on the living room couch. His posture was normal, but his head was thrown back and his neck was slit. Blood soaked the front of his sweater and slacks, dripping into the white speckled carpet below him.</p><p>Not the worst thing Will had ever witnessed, not by far, but he did feel a more sensitive part of himself turn squeamish. He inhaled, ignored Hannibal’s gaze like a laser on his cheek and left his side to approach the sofa.</p><p>Dr. Katz was sitting next to the body, studying the wound.</p><p>“Who’s this?” Will asked her.</p><p>“John Cohen. Found just this morning,” she told him. “Time of death looks to be around midnight and he sat here through the night.”</p><p>“Upper middle class father,” Will muttered to himself, surveying the scene, “having a glass of wine after a long day of work one night, relaxing, when someone decides to make a spectacle out of it.” Up close he saw that the man’s hand was open, having dropped a glass of wine somewhere in the process. The contents blended into the blood spilt over the couch. “He was probably drugged,” he added. “He wasn’t even trying to defend himself here so something must have dulled his senses. Then the real joy came, obviously, from the neck wound.”</p><p>“We’re looking at something personal, then?”</p><p>“Definitely personal. Who found him?”</p><p>“The neighbors,” came an answer from behind.</p><p>Will turned around to see a Baltimore officer watching them beside the staircase. Likely just keeping an eye on everything. “A man next door saw Mr. Cohen like this through the window and found it suspicious, so they stopped by to check on him,” he explained, coming up to him. “They had a spare key.”</p><p>When he got too close, Will saw the officer’s gaze change and his subtle inhale that wasn’t quite subtle enough. The man was tall. Strong underneath his uniform. Alpha without a doubt.</p><p>And he smelled <i>good</i>.</p><p>Will didn’t usually have to work so hard to keep his instincts under control, but it was rare he was off his suppressants, and he had just spent a good long while being primed to the scent of alpha by spending his morning with Hannibal. He let his eyes linger on the officer’s until they seemed to come to an unspoken understanding.</p><p>“Was there any sign of forced entry?” Will asked, turning back to the reclining corpse. One of the forensics guys shuffled by in his plastic booties and Will wondered if he was working up static with those things; the carpet was almost certainly acrylic rather than wool.</p><p>“Nope,” Katz replied, popping the ‘p’ and giving Will a plastic grin. “And yes, we have taken the neighbor’s prints, and their details, and told them not to leave the state.”</p><p>“It’s almost like you do this for a living.”</p><p>“Almost.” Beverly tilted her head and gave Will a quick once-over before casting her eyes over his shoulder to Hannibal, who stood patiently out of the way, hands clasped in front of him. Bastard never wore gloves to scenes. “You okay, Graham?”</p><p>“Why wouldn’t I be?”</p><p>“No reason.”</p><p>Will glared, and Beverly shrugged, side-stepping him to catch one of her team and pass something along. Will could feel the heat of the officer next to him; the man was standing far too close. It was more welcome than it should have been.</p><p>“What about the rest of the family?” Will asked him, turning back to where the alpha was already in his personal space. He sucked in a breath and held it, bringing a hand up to tuck his knuckle beneath the frame of his glasses to push them higher up his nose. “Officer…?”</p><p>“Dresden,” the man replied, “Oswald.”</p><p>Will licked his lips. The silence hung between them for a moment before he lifted his brows and Officer Dresden remembered that Will had actually asked him another question; one actually pertinent to the situation at hand.</p><p>“Disappeared,” he answered. “No reports of them having been spotted since last night, as far as we know right now.”</p><p>Will glanced to the front door. “I only saw one car in the driveway. His?”</p><p>“Her purse and identification are missing as well.”</p><p>“Well,” Will looked up at him and smiled. “I guess we know what we’re looking for, then.”</p><p>“It seems so.” Officer Dresden gave him the same smile back and revealed the small dimples at the corners of his mouth. “Might be as quick as that. That is, if no evidence throws a wrench in it.”</p><p>“It better be.” Will put his hands in his pockets and walked around the body, looking for any more details he might have missed so he didn’t jump to conclusions too quickly. “I don’t have time for a long case.”</p><p>“Busy?”</p><p>“Taking a leave.” Will paused. “Health reasons.”</p><p>“Ah,” Officer Dresden hummed to himself, nodding. “How long will that be?”</p><p>“About a week, starting in a day or so. Depending on my doctor’s recommendation.” At the thought, Will glanced back to where Hannibal should be and sure enough he was still standing by the doorway. His eyes were locked on Will already and his cold stare hit Will like a punch to the gut. Will had to look away or else he felt like cowering.</p><p>So he turned right back to the officer. “I don’t have all the details worked out yet, obviously,” he said.</p><p>“Well,” Officer Dresden reached into his pocket for his wallet, “I know of some resources in the area that might come in handy, should you ever need them.” He took out a blue business card and handed it to Will. His hand looked exceptionally strong, obviously capable of firing a gun or defending himself hand-to-hand. Bigger—not too much—than Will’s own and Will found his eyes glued to it even after he had taken the card.</p><p>“Thank you, officer,” he replied. He tucked the card, which had a phone number and email printed in white, in his pocket.</p><p>“Just Oswald is fine.”</p><p>Will looked up and smiled. “Call me Will, then.”</p><p>“Will.” Hearing his name spoken by that low, smooth voice sent Will’s heart into his throat. Oswald held out his hand. Whenever Will was in a crime scene his senses were at peak performance and it took a powerful tranquilizer to put them down. But when Will finally took the handshake and he felt Oswald’s fingers gripping his hand firmly, his knees nearly buckled from underneath him. His body was on fire and he didn’t even try to conceal it. Under an alpha’s stare, there was nothing he wanted to hide.</p><p>Oswald finally released his hand. “Good luck with your case,” he said, and he started toward the door where other officers were waiting for him. They clearly knew what was going on but Will could care less. He stared after Oswald. He watched the way the other officers listened intently and looked to him as the dominant member of their group, and Will wondered if he was up to being a sergeant soon, but that was a fleeting thought. What mattered was that an alpha’s scent was on his hand now, all over his skin, and it was electrifying. Had he been alone he would have sucked on every finger.</p><p>It was far too late to act normal when he snapped back into reality and saw Beverly standing not far away, watching him while he hadn’t breathed in what felt like hours.</p><p>Will narrowed his eyes at her and she cocked her hip before offering a shrug.</p><p>"No weird stuff at the scene that we can't see without a microscope," she said after the pause grew so pregnant Will felt almost ill from it. "You know, discounting the dead body still dripping ooze onto the carpet and all that."</p><p>"Yes," Will replied, terse, "discounting that."</p><p>He could feel Hannibal's eyes boring into the back of his head and his instincts were screaming at him to turn around, look at him, appease his obvious displeasure—</p><p>"Should have him set up for an autopsy by late afternoon, and you know how long it takes for results on a good day."</p><p>"Is it a good day?"</p><p>"When I'm performing the autopsy," Beverly grinned. Will took it as a welcome end to the conversation and finally turned back to his doctor. Hannibal was watching Will with a cool expression, but he was radiating pheromones like a badly tuned radio. Will was going to get a headache if he didn't calm them down soon.</p><p>Will approached as casually as he could, and forced his shoulders not to hunch in supplication as he neared Hannibal again.</p><p>"They might get you to consult on this one," Will told him quietly, keeping his position just to the left of the doctor, not directly in front of him. It was too confrontational to be face-to-face just then. "It's too personal to be a random killing, and doesn't fit any pattern of unsolved cases that I can link off the top of my head."</p><p>"Concentration must be difficult for you right now," Hannibal agreed and Will had to resist glaring at him. He licked his lips instead which, in retrospect, wasn't the best idea. Hannibal honed in on the motion and didn't blink, or breathe, for several moments. He merely raised his eyes to meet Will's again, deftly angling his gaze to look just beneath the frames of Will's glasses as he tried to hide behind them.</p><p>"Will you remain here to wait for Jack?" he asked.</p><p>“No,” Will cleared his throat when his voice came out dry, “I need to get home. I think we’re pretty much done here and I can always come back if needed.” He turned around to say his brief goodbyes to Beverly and to ask her to text him if she needed anything.</p><p>Then he made his way out the door, walking somewhat briskly so he could put as much space between him and Hannibal as possible. They’d both assumed that Will would give him a ride back, since it was on his way home—though for the life of him, Will couldn’t remember why the hell he had offered to drive him in the first place. In hindsight, it was a terrible idea.</p><p>On his way past the crowd, Will caught sight of Oswald where he was surrounded by a few other officers and giving them instructions. And although he seemed completely distracted and they were at a considerable distance across the lawn, when Will’s eyes were on him, Oswald looked up and met them perfectly. Will’s heat urged him to run over to him and fall to his knees in front of him, but he mustered a polite wave and Oswald returned it with a smile.</p><p>As Will was stepping into the car, though, he noticed Oswald’s expression fall into a simmering aggression. And looking to the side, it was clear why.</p><p>“Hannibal.” At the stern sound of his name, Hannibal averted his gaze from the officer and looked to Will, who had his lips drawn into a thin sliver. “Get in.”</p><p>Hannibal was so tense that Will thought his hand might make a dent in the car door before he finally tore himself away from the opposing alpha and ducked inside. Normally Will would have made fun of him for this, because moments when Hannibal lost that level-headed elegance he lived in were so rare that someone had to take advantage of them. In this case, though, it was actually dangerous to test his patience.</p><p>The tension wasn’t so much from anger as it was autonomic. Will identified all the typical signals from the body’s sympathetic nervous system readying themselves for a physical conflict—the pointed glare, stiff posture, taut muscles—all of which Hannibal had noticeable trouble calming once they were on the road and driving back in silence. The front two windows were down and that helped a little. Will planned on explaining the confusion later when he called Oswald, to make sure he knew he wasn’t already mated.</p><p>But that was all irrelevant in the end. What wasn’t irrelevant was the alpha’s hand on his. The way it gripped him. It took the breath out of Will’s lungs and made his own hand tighten on the steering wheel just imagining how that same strength could potentially hold his neck or pull his hair when Will was pinned down to the bed. He couldn’t remember how long it’d been since he had a knot splitting him open.</p><p>“You’re already starting to produce slick.” The soothing voice pulled him out of his fantasy. Will was about to defend himself when he directed his attention down and realized that Hannibal was right. There was a little slick Will could feel having wet his underwear. It wasn’t quite enough that Will needed to change his pants, but also so little that Will found it annoying if not unnerving that Hannibal had smelled it before he’d felt it.</p><p>“I know,” Will muttered. “Control yourself.”</p><p>"I'm perfectly in control," the doctor replied blithely. The rest of the sentence went unspoken and Will was grateful for that. Omega or not, he didn't take to implications kindly when they suggested he wasn't fit for work. Besides, Hannibal had no right to be tense, or angry, or possessive. He had no reason to posture and preen before another alpha. Will wasn't <i>his</i>. He'd never <i>asked</i>, for God's sake. Will wondered if spite would eventually drive their species to extinction if any other omega felt inclined as he was and they, too, decided not to breed on principle alone.</p><p>Somehow they made it back to Hannibal's home without incident or accident, and Will made a point not to walk him to the door.</p><p>"Will you keep our appointment?" Hannibal asked him, leaning back in through the window once he'd closed the door.</p><p>"I suppose I'll see how I feel," Will replied tightly. "Would be rude not to," he added as he turned to the doctor. Hannibal's eyes seemed red-rimmed at the words, and Will's thin smile widened. "I'll be sure to let you know with plenty of time to spare if we need to reschedule."</p><p>“Alright,” Hannibal replied.</p><p>Will’s silence indicated that he felt the conversation had reached its natural conclusion, but Hannibal wasn’t backing out. His eyes even wandered over Will’s body, the previous subtly eroded, and Will felt a little more slick seeping out of him while heat pulsed in his ears. He froze his smile on his face, though, and pressed the button on his door that made both the driver’s and passenger-side window go up. Hannibal had to quickly duck out of the way before his head knocked against the roof. Once Will was clear, he wasted no time driving off and turning onto the road that would take him home.</p><p> </p><p>Will came to work with new pants as a precaution, which Dr. Katz thankfully did not comment on when she read him, Jack, and the rest of her team the autopsy report. Will’s assessment was spot-on. The wine contained a drug that slowed Mr. Cohen’s motor functions, making him less able to defend himself against the knife the killer drew on him. It all made perfect sense.</p><p>All that was left was for the police to track down the wife and son and interview the neighbors for any pertinent information. Will normally would have helped, but as soon as he was able he pulled Jack aside in private and notified him of his approaching heat. With a dose of polite discomfort in the face of Will’s omega status, which he was rarely confronted with, Jack nodded and told Will that his priority should be to finish up any pressing work he needed to before he left.</p><p>This took Will to his lunch break, which he spent walking around the department campus. He could almost hear Hannibal reproaching him for not eating when it was more important than ever he had something in his stomach, but Will persuaded himself that one meal wasn’t going to kill him. In the meantime he picked up his phone and called the number on the business card in his pocket.</p><p>His heart beat hard in his ears as the dial rang, even while Will tried to calm it and rehearsed exactly how he was going to introduce himself. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt this nervous about a phone call.</p><p>Then the receiver picked up. “Hello, Officer Dresden of the Baltimore Police Department speaking.”</p><p>“Hello. Officer.” All the words he’d been practicing fell just as quickly out of his head. “It’s Will Graham.”</p><p>“Oh, hello.” Will could hear the smile in Oswald’s voice. “How is the case going?” he asked.</p><p>“I’m not allowed to release any details, obviously. But it’s fine.”</p><p>“Glad to hear.”</p><p>“So.” Will swallowed and sat down on a bench beside him. “I actually called mainly to leave my personal number.”</p><p>“Of course.” There was a pause and Will heard some papers rustling. “When is your heat starting, little omega?”</p><p><i>Little</i>. The word so often offended Will when his mind was powering at full capacity, but now it ran down his spine in a pleasant shiver. He felt himself grin before he could hide it, and then decided he had no reason to hide it at all, and let the warmth invade his tone. "What's your best guess?"</p><p>"I'd hardly be so presumptuous as to guess."</p><p>"Liar."</p><p>The sound Oswald made, a warm, purring thing, curled Will's ankles to cross together, feet folding beneath the bench in a comfortable tuck.</p><p>"You smelled delicious this morning," Oswald admitted finally. "Even with the scent you wore trying to mask it. I'd <i>presume</i> to suggest you're less than a week out."</p><p>"No wonder they made you detective."</p><p>Oswald laughed again and Will had to bite his lip to avoid making an embarrassing sound of pleasure. Worse, he could start purring; that was the last thing he needed. "May I be presumptuous again and assume this is an invitation to dinner?"</p><p>"Try again," Will grinned, letting his eyes seek over the quad he'd seated himself in. Oswald hummed. Through the phone, Will heard the trilling ring of the telephone. He must've been in the bullpen, surrounded by papers and sounds and smells. If there was one thing Will didn't miss about being a cop it was the overwhelming <i>everything</i> that came with it.</p><p>"I'll tell you what," Oswald said, interrupting Will's train of thought. "Leave me your personal number, and I'll be sure to get back to you with a detailed menu for both dinner and breakfast."</p><p>"Better." Will let his pleasure seep into his voice, warm as caramel, and gave Oswald his cell. The officer promised to call when he got off work and Will forced himself to hang up before he talked the poor man out of it with his awkward attempts at more flirting.</p><p>Dinner tonight. A night to enjoy each other and gauge compatibility for the coming heat. Oswald’s hands on his hips, teeth on his neck. Breakfast in bed the next morning.</p><p>Plans were easy for Will. Plans were safe.</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes plans fell through.</p><p>Oswald called, but he never showed up in Wolf Trap, and after six attempts by Will to summon him, then excuse him, then curse him out went to an overflowing voicemail, he went to bed unsatisfied.<br/>
He was woken far too early by Jack announcing there was another scene Will needed to meet him at, and he left the house with a storm cloud hanging over his head.</p><p>The location Jack sent him took him to a suburb in Baltimore, not too different in appearance from the last case but not in the same vicinity. He flashed his badge to the officers guarding the door upon his entry, then ducked below the yellow tape only to be guided upstairs.</p><p>Cases felt so second-nature to him by now that Will’s mind was mostly elsewhere as he ascended to the second floor. He knew he would refocus when he had the body in front of him, but for now he was stuck in the night before, replaying every little detail wondering if he had done something wrong, missed a cue, or simply been made to look like an idiot. He did assure himself, coming into the bedroom where he saw Dr. Katz and some members of her team, that Oswald’s professional contact information was public and he could reach him again just as easily.</p><p>Then, as he got a look at the body lying face-down, bent over on the edge of the bed, he realized that he wouldn’t have to worry about that.</p><p>The smell hit him and Will’s hand flew to his nose. He recognized the hands lying white and stiff, bound together on the man’s back. Then the body bent at a 90 degree angle, doggy-style over the edge of the bed, with blood soaking in the carpet beneath his feet. Will didn’t have to see the man’s face, even as it was buried in the bed sheets with his hair lying chaotically around his ears. He knew it was Oswald.</p><p>He felt as if he’d swallowed his heart when Dr. Katz came over to his side. She was evidently about to say something, identify the victim or cause of death, but she fell silent as soon as he saw his face. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.</p><p>Will shook his head and shut his eyes. “No, it’s fine. Thank you.” He moved away from her to study the body from the side, for now suppressing his grief. He could emote later. “Cause of death?” he asked.</p><p>“Bullet straight to the head.” Dr. Katz pointed to the gun wound in Oswald’s occipital lobe. “He shot him point-blank.”</p><p>“And that came after everything else. He’d already had his fun.” Will looked over the victim, kneeling down. His wrists were bound so tightly there were blue and purple marks around them. This triggered another train of thought and Will followed it a second until he came to his conclusion. “Is there a bruise on the side of his head?” he asked.</p><p>Dr. Katz cleared Oswald’s hair from his temple and replied, “Sure is.”</p><p>“Okay.” Will stood back up. “This man was strong and our killer, chances are, can only match him at best. He took him by surprise and hit him over the head with his own gun.” Humiliation. “Then he tied him up.” Will observed the rope digging into Oswald’s wrists. It was the killer’s own. “Bent him over…” Sexual domination. Will’s eyes followed down the victim’s limp legs to the carpet and the blood there on the edge of the bed, dripping off the sheets. And where was that coming from?</p><p>His instincts alerted him of something in the doorway and Will knew immediately just from the change in atmosphere who was coming up behind him. He covered his nose again; this was the last thing he needed.</p><p>Over his shoulder, Hannibal was sweeping the scene just like Will had. It was a lot to take in at once. Eventually he whispered, solemnly, “How unfortunate.”</p><p>“Fuck off,” Will muttered under his breath. “I bet you’re happy to see this.”</p><p>“Not at all. He seemed like a promising young officer.”</p><p>"Your posturing at the scene yesterday really gave me that impression," Will replied. He'd called Hannibal immediately after calling Oswald to <i>regrettably</i> miss his appointment, and it suddenly occurred to him that in his absentminded agitation that morning he'd left the house without any scent blocker on at all.</p><p>
  <i>Lord.</i>
</p><p>He could damn well feel Hannibal's heat radiating from him with how close he stood. Will was sure he was wafting stress pheromones all over the place, just begging for an alpha to wrap his arms around him and calm him down.</p><p>"Was he exsanguinated?" Hannibal asked. Will was about to snap at him again when Beverly answered instead, the person Hannibal had actually addressed his question to.</p><p>"Didn't have time to," she said. "Though it wouldn't have been unlikely. The way the crude emasculation was done it's surprising the fucker didn't slice the poor guy's femoral artery clean through."</p><p>"A mercy, then," Hannibal concluded, almost to himself, "that the gunshot happened when it did."</p><p>"I mean," Beverly laughed sharply, the sound far from pleasant. "Mercy's… a word."</p><p>Then it registered. "He was emasculated?" Will asked, voice tight.</p><p>"No sign of his genitals on the scene, either." She cleared her throat as Hannibal, Will, and one of the smaller lab assistants taking samples all squirmed their thighs a little closer together, and tried to appear casual doing it. "Another personal attack, this one. It's too clear a message not to be. Too random."</p><p>"Any other sign of torture?" Will asked, stepping as close to the body as he dared.</p><p>"Not from what I can see, but I'll have more for you when we've had a better look."</p><p>"Time of death?" Will asked finally, resigned.</p><p>"My guess is between eight and nine the night before. Surprised none of the neighbors caused a kvetch over it."</p><p>Will nodded slowly. “Alright. Well, his motivation was hatred and a desire to dominate him. Especially sexually. This angle,” he gestured over the victim’s back, “is highly sexual. Our victim is an alpha in a position of power, not to mention physically he appears very masculine. Somebody wanted to take all that away from him. They wanted him humiliated and emasculated, physically but also spiritually. He hit him over the head with his own gun,” Will pantomimed the motion, “our victim falls down. The killer ties him up so he can’t move and mutilates him while the victim can still feel it.”</p><p>He paused, deep in thought. “He wants him to feel it. He lets him suffer like that, for a while. If the neighbors didn’t hear anything then the victim must have passed out for a little while. Even being a trained officer, with that kind of pain anybody would lose consciousness. If so, our killer sat here for as long as it took for him to wake up. Then he shot him in the head. He would have definitely stayed here, though. He was too emotionally invested in this to kill him in his sleep.</p><p>“The whole point was to take his sexual power away, so look into past lovers; any alphas he might know who had a feud with him over an omega.” Will stopped dead in his train of thought. Hannibal’s eyes on him were harder to avoid than ever.</p><p>In the quiet, Hannibal turned his attention to Dr. Katz and asked, “Did anybody see activity around the house from eight to nine?”</p><p>“Not so far,” she said, “but we’re working on it.”</p><p>“Okay.” Will took his glasses off to rub his eyes and headed for the door. “Sorry, I need some air.” Nobody objected.</p><p>However, it was in the hallway that he met Jack, who was on a phone call just about to hang up when Will leaned on the wall next to him. After saying his goodbyes, Jack ended the call and looked at Will expectantly.</p><p>“It’s brutal,” Will said. “This killer wants sexual control and he wants to see his victim humiliated. He emasculated him.”</p><p>Jack’s eyebrows went up. It was rare that a case ever surprised him. “Where’s the member?”</p><p>“That’s the fun part; we don’t know. I’m guessing the killer took it with him as a trophy.”</p><p>Jack inhaled and walked around Will to get a peek in the room, arms crossed. “No leads?” he asked.</p><p>Will deliberated on this point for longer than normal. No, there were no leads, he told himself, because a coincidence wasn’t (always) evidence. He got a look inside the room too and saw Hannibal stalking around the body, leaning down as if to smell it, as close as he could get without touching it. He knelt down and observed the place where Oswald’s penis had been severed from his groin. But that was doctorly, surely. Will had done the exact same thing, after all.</p><p>“No,” he replied. “No leads.”</p><p>“Well, you won’t have to worry about this for much longer.” Jack turned to him. “I approved Hannibal’s recommendation for you to take leave this morning. Your break starts tomorrow. And don’t try to stay. Trust me, you need it.” Even mated, his features still twitched with recognition of Will’s overpowering scent.</p><p>Will’s eyes shifted to Oswald, his broad body lying over the bed. “Great,” he said. “Thank you. I guess I should warn you, then, to avoid future complications that that was my alpha.” He nodded toward the crime scene.</p><p>Jack stared at him, expression as blank as it was almost screaming in its intensity. Then he cleared his throat. “Yours?”</p><p>“We didn’t know each other well. Or long. Or at all, really, but we’d…” Will took a deep breath and released it. He didn’t exactly want to tell his boss that he’d been making plans to jump the man’s bones the night before. He hoped the blatant, heated pause was implication enough.</p><p>Jack cleared his throat again. “I’m sorry to hear that.”</p><p>Will nodded appreciatively, but he didn’t have the words to muster proper gratitude. Then, with a humorless laugh, he gave Jack a narrow-eyed look. “You can check my GPS if you need to know where I was the night before. It wasn’t here.”</p><p>“I didn’t think it was,” Jack told him honestly. “I’ve no doubt an omega has the strength for such an act, but not the constitution. And not in your condition. Instinct is a powerful thing, as strong as fear in keeping people paralyzed on occasion. No, Will, I’m not suspecting you. But I appreciate you letting me know.”</p><p>Will just nodded again; what else could he do?</p><p>Jack patted him awkwardly on the shoulder and moved past Will to step into the room, catching Hannibal first to ask his opinion before moving to his CSI team for a report. Will stood with his back to the wall and his eyes in the middle distance for a long time.</p><p>Why had this happened? Why Officer Dresden, of all people? The time of death easily explained why he hadn’t answered any of Will’s calls the night before, but the arrangement of the body, the very deliberate message it sent… Something in Will’s gut insisted it was just too close to be comfortably coincidental. With a sigh Will let his head drop back against the wall, sounding a gentle thud. It was grounding, so he did it again, taps just gentle enough to feel but loud enough in his head to sound off like booms of a cannon.</p><p>Hannibal made his presence in the hall known olfactorily before he even said a word, and Will took a moment to shamelessly breathe in the potent alpha smell of him. For a moment he even felt comforted.</p><p>“A tragic scene.”</p><p>“Yeah, not the best way to go.”</p><p>“Are you alright?”</p><p>Will blinked, brows furrowing, and gazed up at Hannibal over the rims of his glasses. “Why would I not be?”</p><p>“I can think of several reasons. Anybody, omega or not, is naturally more susceptible to emotional stress with increased hormonal activity. On top of this, you knew the victim personally. Though you only had a few conversations at most and you never mated, the bond between an omega and his alpha, even a potential alpha, is unshakeable.”</p><p>Back in the bedroom, Oswald was being flipped over onto his stomach, and even as Will tried to keep himself professional his nausea came from a place much more primal than mourning. Mates felt each other’s pain, not just through emotional intimacy but physically as well. A bruise to one partner was an ache in the other. Will couldn’t even imagine how it would be affecting him if he and Oswald were actually mates. “I don’t know what I’ll do,” he whispered.</p><p>“Do you have a plan in case you don’t find a mate by the time your heat hits?”</p><p>“Then I’ll call a service that will find me someone temporarily compatible. There are only about five million of them in existence. Or I’ll suck it up and go to a heat clinic.”</p><p>Hannibal nodded, studying him. “Did Jack tell you that your break starts tomorrow?”</p><p>“He did.”</p><p>“I assume I’m going to take your place as a consultant, so if you want to relieve yourself of this scene and return to the office then I don’t mind making sure everything is wrapped up here.” Hannibal paused. “In short, I think you should rest.”</p><p>Will was considering this, arms crossed, leaning against the wall. On the one hand, he did want to leave and find a safe place where he could try to make peace with the situation. However, he was somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of Hannibal having all the influence over this case. Something just wasn’t settling with him.</p><p>Then Hannibal leaned down to whisper in Will’s ear and his alpha scent descended over him, choking him and not painfully. “I think you should find some scent blocker as well.”</p><p>Will jerked away from him abruptly. He was afraid that if he didn’t he might just find himself lurching in the wrong direction. “Alright,” he replied. “I get it.” He left for the staircase and looked back briefly to say, “If there’re any new developments, call me immediately.”</p><p>“I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>Promises. </p><p>What were promises worth, to Will? Abandonment required expectations, and promises required trust. Will didn’t know who he could trust anymore. He wasn’t paranoid so much as jaded. He had his work, of course, and there was a certain level of trust that had to be shared with the team in order to work together at all, but that wasn’t the same as the bone-deep trust that came with truly knowing another person.</p><p>He thought he’d found it a few times when he’d been younger, and since then Will had just stopped looking. What was the point when everyone either lied or left or did both at once?</p><p>But he thought he could trust Hannibal.</p><p>And there was a thought that ate away at Will’s mind like a worm at an apple. Could he not trust Hannibal? Had Hannibal given him reason not to, beyond acting like a preening upstart the day before when Will had spoken to Oswald for the first time at the Cohen scene? Hannibal was an alpha, and on top of that he was just a pretentious twat. Will knew this, he’d known it since the first time Hannibal had invaded his space in the motel room in Minnesota and offered him breakfast, uncaring for Will’s callousness or desire to keep his own personal space.</p><p>Despite all of this, Hannibal had been the only person to ever take what Will said with serious consideration. All of Will’s worries and desires were of the utmost importance, Will’s fears were warranted, his concerns legitimate. And if Will was truly honest with himself, the company wasn’t wanting either.</p><p>Then why, <i>why</i> this needling feeling that Hannibal had something to do with the demise of a man Will had tried to seek out for comfort during his heat?</p><p>Later in the day, Will stopped at a coffee shop that seemed the least crowded and sat heavily at one of the tables outside as he waited for his order to be brought out.</p><p>He was tired. His temperature was fluctuating with a speed so irritating Will could hardly keep up with it. His head was buzzing with theories that grew wilder and wilder the deeper into them he went.</p><p>“Long black,” someone said, and a cup clicked down on the cheap formica table in front of Will. “And an almond croissant.”</p><p>“I didn’t order that,” Will said, immediately reaching for the coffee.</p><p>“I know.” When Will looked up, the young man looking back had his head tilted and his eyes narrowed. “I figured you’d appreciate the sugar boost.”</p><p>Alpha pheromones ensnared him. He did feel a pang of irritation for being obviously singled out as an omega—some alphas thought it was their ‘right’ to interrupt any omega who happened upon their path—but it was impossible to keep it up. The dignity he normally treasured was seeming more absurd every moment and now Will was simply just happy to have the complete attention of any alpha. He relished in it, smiling coyly. “How’d you read my mind?” he asked.</p><p>“You seemed deep in thought,” the man said. Will read his badge, ‘Dennis’. “Call it a sixth sense.”</p><p>“Must be a strong one,” Will replied. “After smell, of course.” He took a sip of his coffee.</p><p>Dennis broke into a slight smile, a hint of guilt written over by guile. “How do you like it?” he asked.</p><p>“It’s delicious.”</p><p>“Good; I made it myself.”</p><p>“I don’t have to pay you back, do I?” Will looked back and up at Dennis and his heart raced just looking at him.</p><p>“No,” Dennis said. “Not unless you want to.” He turned away and walked back to the counter.</p><p>Will had stopped by his house for scent blocker after leaving the crime scene, and so far it had been working, but either this man had a great sense of smell or the blocker was wearing off. Either way it was definitely failing him now. There was even a wet spot of slick in his underwear much bigger than the one before. Will inhaled a shaky breath and tried to settle himself down before he turned heads with the scent he was giving off that just screamed ‘mate me.’ It was getting harder and harder not to beg for it out loud. He had to imagine bending over that table, right then and there. Prostrating himself.</p><p>He took his time enjoying the coffee, taking small bites of the sweet treat to make it last. When Dennis returned, wiping down a perfectly clean table nearby where Will sat, Will took a steadying breath.</p><p>“When do you get off work?” he asked. Dennis cocked his hip, pushing the towel he’d had in his hand through the tie of his apron before he crossed his arms and considered Will.</p><p>“In two hours.”</p><p>Will clicked his tongue, curling his fingers into a fist and resting his cheek against them. “Too late for a lunch date.”</p><p>“Is lunch even a date?”</p><p>Will’s smile had fangs, he let it remain bright for a moment longer than he usually would before flicking his eyes to the side, letting them take in the outline of Dennis’ lean muscles beneath the shirt he wore. He wasn’t bulky, but he was strong, and Will crossed his ankles together under the table to avoid standing up and moving <i>closer</i> to him.</p><p>“Dinner, then.” Will ceded after a moment.</p><p>“Thought you’d never ask.”</p><p>“Are you always so forward?” Will laughed.</p><p>“I rarely have a need to be, honestly,” Dennis admitted, “too few people catch my attention to even bother. My place or yours?”</p><p>“You work with food all day, do you really want to cook again?”</p><p>“No,” Dennis’ voice lowered, pitched at a timbre that hummed in Will’s bones. “But you’re welcome to bring something by.”</p><p>Will didn’t even try to hide the catch in his breath when he responded, “Should I get your number, then?”</p><p>“That would help.” Will took out his phone and opened it to his contacts for Dennis to enter in his information. “I’m putting my address in there, too,” Dennis added as he typed. “What time is best for you?”</p><p>Will glanced at his watch; it was three then. “Is seven alright?”</p><p>“Seven sounds good.” Dennis handed Will back his phone, and even just touching the same place where Dennis’s fingers had been made Will a little hotter under his collar. “And I don’t think I ever caught your name.”</p><p>“Oh, it’s Will Graham.”</p><p>“Nice to meet you, Will.” Dennis smiled.</p><p>“You, too.” Will’s eyes followed Dennis as he walked back inside.</p><p>As Will headed to his appointment with Hannibal that afternoon, there was a little guilt dousing the wildfire in his mind. It hadn’t even been a day since he found Oswald dead and he was already moving on to the next alpha. But, at the same time, he knew deep down it wasn’t personal. Oswald’s death was tragic, but he couldn’t reverse what had already happened. That was no reason to throw his whole heat into chaos.</p><p>He had temporarily suppressed most of that shame by the time he arrived at Dr. Lecter’s office, so instead he let himself obsess about what little he knew about Dennis. All he knew was his last name, Reid; his address; and his body type which, studies showed, did tend to sport a larger knot. He slumped in the chair in the waiting room just thinking about it, body glowing. It was a blessing he didn’t have to be at work the next day. He knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else but sex. For the next few days at least he could just allow his intelligent profiler persona to slip away and not have to constantly reprimand himself for being tempted to give into his subordinate biological desires.</p><p>The office door clicked open and Will sat up straight immediately, preparing himself to put on the profiler persona for just a little while longer. But Hannibal stepped into the doorway and their eyes met and suddenly, Will was paralyzed to the spot. He couldn’t breathe, and not in the way he had felt before. He had been utterly unprepared for this scent.</p><p>Hannibal’s eyes swept over him with the attitude of a predator surveying its meal, and Will was convinced for a split second that he was at his absolute mercy.</p><p>“Come in,” Hannibal whispered.</p><p>Will almost told him he didn’t want to. He almost got up and ran the hell out of there. Something told him not to be in the same room as Hannibal at that moment; every instinct in his very being, already heightened to ultimate sensitivity, screamed at him to get away.</p><p>But Will had never been one to run, not from anything.</p><p>So he obeyed and walked past Hannibal into his office.</p><p>“Officer Dresden’s autopsy report showed no signs of other bodily torture,” Hannibal started, even before the door was closed again. “There were no narcotic substances in his system, nor was there alcohol. His stomach was empty—it seemed he had been on his way out to get dinner when he’d been attacked.”</p><p>Will swallowed and nodded, taking his usual seat less than gracefully as Hannibal prowled up from behind him and walked just too-close past Will’s form to take his own seat, crossing his right ankle over his left knee and setting clasped fingers atop.</p><p>“Thus far, Jack Crawford does not believe there to be a connection between this and the Cohen case.”</p><p>“Do you?” Will asked. He hated that his tone was impatient, snappy. He found he didn’t want to talk about Oswald; he couldn’t when he had Dennis to see that evening, when he was in a room with another alpha, one stronger than both of them, who was trying to claim him with his gaze.</p><p>“Officially,” Hannibal said, allowing a pause to punctuate the word for a moment. “I cannot say there is any evidence that the two are connected. Just an awful coincidence that Officer Dresden happened to be the leader of his team for the Cohen murder.”</p><p>“And unofficially?” Will asked him sardonically.</p><p>“It is quite the awful coincidence, is it not?”</p><p>Will didn’t know what to say to that. His shoulders were tense, his neck hidden behind the collar of his coat that he hadn’t taken off because Hannibal hadn’t offered to take it for him. Silences with him were never uncomfortable, though, and neither was this one. Just nerve wracking.</p><p>“You seem tense,” Hannibal observed.</p><p>“I’m always tense.”</p><p>“More than usual.”</p><p>Will sighed, a smile pulling at his mouth. “Well, I met someone.”</p><p>“An alpha?”</p><p>“Yes. He was working for the coffee shop I was at this afternoon, on my break, and he gave me a free coffee. We struck up a conversation. He’s very… what’s the word? Shrewd. Perceptive.” Will tried not to smile like a fool while he looked down at his lap and his clasped hands. It had occurred to him that if he assured both of them of his prioritization of other alphas, he might be able to remind Dr. Lecter of his place. “I’m going to his place for dinner tonight,” he finished.</p><p>“What do you know about him?” Hannibal asked.</p><p>“Besides his name and where he works, you mean? That’s what tonight is for.”</p><p>“Still, entering the space of an alpha while you’re just nearly beginning your heat is ill-advised at best when you don’t know how trustworthy this man is,” Hannibal replied.</p><p>Will pursed his lips in a warning. “Don’t think I haven’t considered that.”</p><p>“I don’t mean to imply you’re being irrational, but I was going to offer to run a background check on this man. To ensure your safety.”</p><p>“There’s no reason for you to do that.” It came out a little harsher than Will expected, but he didn’t stop. “You’re not my protector.”</p><p>The words gave Hannibal pause before he slowly inclined his head, though his eyes remained on Will. “No,” he agreed, drawing the word out a little long. “No, I’m not. Merely a concerned friend.”</p><p>“I appreciate that.” Will didn’t. Hannibal tilted his head, that inquisitive thing he so often did when he was trying to crack through Will’s walls with patience and bullheaded determination. For a while, neither said anything.</p><p>“It would be more dangerous if he were coming out to see me,” Will added after a while, when he thought his point had been made. “You’ve been to Wolf Trap, you know how remote it is. At least he’s urban.”</p><p>“Were you going to invite the officer to your home?” Hannibal asked calmly, his lower eyelids tensing just so as to suggest a victory when he saw Will’s tension surge up a notch.</p><p>“How did you—”</p><p>“A guess,” Hannibal answered. “It was clear that the scene was particularly traumatic for you, seeing as the man could have been your alpha. Considering you are not inviting this new potential mate to your abode, I assumed that it was as a precaution—the last time you invited an alpha there, he didn’t arrive.”</p><p>Will’s cheeks paled and then almost immediately flushed bright again in his agitation. He smelled exquisite, every pulse of raw emotion infiltrating Will’s natural scent and drawing out the spice within. Saffron and cinnamon; omega gold and warmth.</p><p>“You’re overstepping,” Will’s answer was a growl, just soft enough to suggest it would grow should Hannibal venture further. “Even as a friend, Hannibal, back off.”</p><p>“Wariness is understandable,” Hannibal replied instead, either heedless of Will’s warning or deliberately pushing buttons. “You should feel safe during your heat, Will, with a known entity, rather than a stranger.”</p><p>Will’s throat felt dry and he pursed his lips. “Fuck you,” it came out as a breath, punched from him and terse. “I can take care of myself, I always have. I can find my own way, especially with something as intimate as this. Your job as my therapist is to hear me, not judge me.”</p><p>“I’m not judging,” Hannibal offered out a hand, palm up, like an olive branch, “I’m making sure you understand the gravity of any potentially rash decisions.”</p><p>“No,” Will shook his head sharply, “you’re having a hell of a time exploiting my weak spots because you love being the puppeteer of every situation.” Suddenly he smiled, and the sheer, wicked spite of it was unprecedented to both of them. “And that’s it,” he went on. “You’re not in control now because you see me not following your advice and instead doing what I want to do and it makes you insecure. So you’re reasserting your ability to manipulate me in any way you choose just to make yourself feel better. It’s cruel. But that’s just like you.”</p><p>Hannibal moved to the edge of his seat and leaned forward. “Believe me or not,” he said gently, “my actions come from a place of concern.”</p><p>“You’re not denying what I said.”</p><p>“No, I’m not.” Hannibal bowed his head. “Forgive me.”</p><p>Will had a million biting words on his tongue that he was itching to unleash on Hannibal, now that he had him in a place of apology, but seeing his regret and Hannibal’s bowed head, his anger deflated. Will released a breath and sat back more relaxed in his chair, which allowed Hannibal to come back up as well and return to his normal position.</p><p>“I never meant to say you were helpless,” Hannibal explained. “You’re quite the opposite. But I think we can both agree that your own mental and physical health are not at the top of your priorities.”</p><p>Will had to chuckle a little bit, though it came out reluctant.</p><p>“I believe that the original agreement we had between us is that you judge what’s best for your life and I remind you what’s best for your health.”</p><p>Will thought this through and nodded carefully. “I see your point.”</p><p>“I would like to run a background check on this man, but I won’t insist on it. You have a deeply intuitive sense for others already, so if you’ve determined that he’s trustworthy then that carries weight,” Hannibal said. “And you should trust yourself, but it won’t hurt to know for sure. It will just be another reason to support your choice.”</p><p>With a deep sigh, Will relented and gave him Dennis’ full name and phone number. In the end, he could choose just as easily to listen to what Hannibal had to say about the man as choose not to, and if it would get the doctor off his back with his oddly sweet yet unnecessary concern then it was no skin off Will’s nose.</p><p>They spoke about the case, but not at length.</p><p>They spoke about Will’s state of mind, with his heat coming in, how he felt facing it once more after five years without the hassle. It was oddly easier to speak about that than to bring up Will’s necessity for an alpha to help him through it.</p><p> </p><p>The appointment ended at six, and Will had just enough time to get in touch with Dennis and find out his preferences for dinner. If they hit it off—and Will hoped to hell they would, because if this didn’t work he was stuck between a complete stranger and a heat clinic as his only choices—he would cook the man a proper meal when he came over to prepare for Will’s heat. After confirming Dennis’ address, Will made his way to his favourite Chinese place to get them takeout for the night.</p><p>Will felt a bit unmoored as he waited for their meal to be prepared. It was nearing seven, and Hannibal’s words continued to swirl around in his mind, too loud to ignore like Will wanted to. His concern, the way he looked at Will like he wanted to eat him alive so that no one else could ever touch him, or hurt him, again. Possessive, protective, posturing. So very, very alpha.</p><p>And Will couldn’t say he didn’t hold some sort of desire for the man; he surely did that, but he refused to break that barrier between them, to shove aside the safety of professionalism for something <i>other</i>.</p><p>Change was unnerving.</p><p>Will didn’t want to think about it anymore.</p><p> </p><p>By the time he parked on Dennis’ street, the hair on the back of his neck was standing on end. There was electricity in the air, a smell of ozone like just before a storm and Will was fully alert as he looked around the totally normal, suburban street.</p><p>Something was out of place, yet something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones. His skin crawled with it. Will took his phone up and dialled Dennis again as he made his way to his house, walking slowly to allow the call to connect before he reached the door. But it went to voicemail.</p><p>“No,” Will groaned, hitting the redial. “Not again, don’t fucking do this again to me.”</p><p>But it went to voicemail again. Will rang the doorbell, and nobody answered, so he rang it a few more times and knocked, but the house was dead silent inside.</p><p>Will was seeing red now, but one thing was clear in his mind: he had to get into that house. He was going through his options wondering whether or not he would settle on breaking a window or if he should try hopping over the fence to reach the back door, but he happened to try the front door first, just to check. Sure enough, it was unlocked.</p><p>Will set the bag of takeout food on the porch and gingerly stepped inside the tiled hall. He left the door slanted open just in case he needed a quick exit. Carefully, regretting that he didn’t have a gun at that moment, he made his way past an ordinary looking living room, through to the kitchen where he was starting to hear a sizzling, like something was cooking in a frying pan. But that was no sign of life. Will recognized Dennis’ scent throughout the house, but it wasn’t nearly as overpowering as it should have been given the circumstances.</p><p>He crept steadily toward the kitchen, where the sizzling was the loudest, and when he peeked his head into the room he nearly threw up.</p><p>Dennis was bent over the counter at a perfect right angle, where a rope looped around his neck and held his head against the stovetop grill. One cheek was pressed against a burning stovetop and around it his flesh was turning black. As Will’s eyes wandered further down, he knew exactly what he was going to see before he did: Dennis’ wrists tied behind his back, and a pool of blood on the floor between his legs.</p><p>Will had the doorway in a white-knuckle grip that at first was to keep him from fainting, but as moments passed, turned into earth-shattering fury. He turned out of the room and was back at his car in a flash, slamming on the gas.</p><p> </p><p>He had never gotten to Hannibal’s house so quickly. Part of that record time didn’t give him any space to collect himself and think of a real plan, but he didn’t think he needed a plan as long as he was willing to do whatever it took to murder Hannibal. Suddenly he was at the house and braking on the driveway. Hannibal must have seen him pull up, must have been expecting him; Will stormed up the porch and only had to pound three times on the door before Hannibal opened it calmly.</p><p>“Yes?” he asked.</p><p>Will twisted and slapped Hannibal across the cheek with all the strength he had in him. Hannibal stumbled back, holding his face and still registering his shock, which gave Will enough room to come in and shut the door behind him. “You piece of shit,” he hissed.</p><p>“Will, wait—” Hannibal didn’t get anything more out before Will saw a glass vase out of the corner of his eye, grabbed it without a second thought, and smashed it like a bat over Hannibal’s head.</p><p>Hannibal fell to the ground and Will was over him in a second, straddling him, struggling to get a hold on his doctor’s neck and find his arteries. He pressed down and Hannibal choked out a swear that didn’t quite form.</p><p>“You <i>pretentious</i>, possessive, <i>presumptuous</i> bastard!” Will hissed, drawing back a hand to sock Hannibal in the jaw. He hit off-angle and his knuckles sung with pain, all the way up to his elbow and back down again, nerves making it very fucking clear that both of them would be wrecked by this.</p><p>Beneath him, he could feel Hannibal start to struggle. The surprise Will had managed to use to his advantage was wearing off. But where Hannibal had strength, Will had blind rage. And he was <i>livid</i>.</p><p>“What were you trying to achieve?” Will asked, voice finally raising louder than a whisper, louder than a breath. He could feel Hannibal’s pulse speeding where he’d managed to get a hand around his windpipe. Will squeezed, teeth bared. “What were you trying to prove, Hannibal? And to whom, huh? To me? That you’re the only alpha strong enough to provide for me? Protect me? Fuck you. Fuck <i>you</i>!”</p><p>Hannibal bucked up and Will <i>moaned</i>, his body responding to the sensation of being pressed against, to the smell of Hannibal so near, his pheromones, his blood, his breath, and sweat.</p><p>Something collided with the side of Will’s skull. Once, twice, and the world tilted. And the back of his head struck the hardwood. And Hannibal was on top of him. A hand snared in Will’s hair and yanked, exposing his throat, and then Hannibal was <i>right there</i>, nose to nose with Will, his eyes blood-red, his teeth bared, and a growl rolling from him like thunder deep enough to rattle Will’s bones.</p><p>“And <i>you</i>?” he breathed. “Clever, wily, tempting thing, what about your blindness? Your stubborn denial of my courtship, Will? A man only has so much patience, and you have tested every ounce of mine.”</p><p>Without thinking, Will spat at him, unable to get his hands under him quick enough to strike out again. A moment, tension like a crystal glass about to shatter, a breath held like the first taste of snow and then—</p><p>Teeth and tongues and lips collided, bodies pressed so close there was nothing between them but the air still trapped in their lungs, the fragile ribs caging those.</p><p>Will threw his arms around Hannibal to tear at his clothes in a desire to throw him off and kill him that just as quickly degenerated into a need to rip his shirt right off his back. Hannibal wasn’t kissing him so much as he was possessing his mouth, like a demon trying to invade him, and Will found himself involuntarily arching up off the floor, hooking his leg around Hannibal’s waist. His body was moaning without his permission. His pants were soaked through. Slick poured out of him as his hands hungrily roamed Hannibal’s sides and hips, feeling his solid body through his clothes.</p><p>Without warning, Hannibal leaned up and turned Will over onto his stomach like he weighed nothing. Perhaps also because Will felt weak; his face was flushed and he was panting under the full force of his heat. He didn’t even think about stopping it when Hannibal tugged his pants down to his thighs and climbed back over him, one hand clutching the hair at his scalp and one further down, pulling open his own belt.</p><p>Will could hear, with Hannibal’s hot mouth next to his ear, every labored moan and the rough scratch of his voice as he growled, “You’re mine.”</p><p>Will found himself nodding as he gasped, eyes closed, pressing his ass back and presenting as his instinct dictated. He felt Hannibal’s erection against his skin and everything inside him screamed he wanted it.</p><p>“I’m going to knot you,” Hannibal whispered, “until there’s no fucking question about it.” He took his cock in his hand and with one motion, thrusted deep into the omega.</p><p>The sound Will made was not human. It felt like his soul left his body with it, and he went completely lax beneath the alpha. Will’s hands clawed at the hardwood floor, most likely leaving marks, gauges that Hannibal would be on his knees fixing with walnut oil later. And good. <i>Good</i>. Will wanted to leave his marks everywhere; on Hannibal’s body, his home, his very being.</p><p>The fingers against the back of his neck tightened and Will bared his teeth, whining in irritation as he tried to spread his knees wider and <i>couldn’t</i>, his damn pants in the way.</p><p>“Harder,” he begged, his knees memorizing the goddamn patterns in the wood floor, gasping when Hannibal obliged, his pleasure evident in every motion, his desire clear with every painful shove into Will’s willing body that suddenly <i>ached</i> for him. “<i>Alpha</i>!”</p><p>“Hush,” Hannibal growled, yanking Will’s head back and drawing his tongue rough and hot over his pulse. “Be good, omega.”</p><p>Something liquid dripped onto Will’s cheek and out of the corner of his eye he could tell it was blood from when he had smashed the vase over Hannibal’s head. Will glowed in the satisfaction of knowing he had made him <i>bleed</i>. “Make me,” he whined, one arm stretched out in front of him as though he could claw his way free from beneath him, as though he wanted to. “Mark me, mate me, <i>fuck me, Hannibal</i>.”</p><p>Hannibal responded by sinking his teeth into Will’s neck—not a mating bite, just a physical claim on his person that caused Will not to moan but to whine in a higher register than he’d ever heard from himself. He feverishly reached back to bury his hand in his alpha’s hair and keep him there, locked on his throat, while Hannibal groaned in time with each thrust.</p><p>Will felt something liquid start to trickle down his neck until Hannibal stopped to lick him from his collarbone up. “Oh, God,” Hannibal breathed as the taste of Will’s blood touched his tongue and he lost himself. He shifted his position somewhat higher over Will’s hips and his relentless thrusts became even harder. It was pure bliss.</p><p>Will pressed his forehead to the ground, struggling to present more dramatically and prove to his alpha he wanted it. His sense of being had left him completely while Hannibal’s cock was forcing his walls open. “Yes,” he gasped, “alpha, yes, don’t fucking stop.”</p><p>Hannibal tucked his nose against Will’s curls and breathed him in, dropping a hand down to stroke Will’s tiny cock to orgasm, breathing deep the smell of his pleasure. Pleasure Hannibal had brought him, that Hannibal had the power to control, to give and deny him.</p><p>“Knot,” Will breathed, eyes unseeing, lips smearing against the floor, slipping over his spit and his and Hannibal’s blood that had pooled there. “Knot me, alpha, <i>please</i>—”</p><p>Hannibal’s hand tightened around Will’s cock, his knot swelling at the base of his own as he continued to pound into the beautiful omega beneath him. He would bring Will over again, he would have him barely conscious through this heat, so overcome, overwhelmed, over-pleasured that he never looked at another.</p><p>“You’re <i>mine</i>,” he repeated, voice rough, breath scalding against Will’s sweaty skin. “Mine to punish and pleasure, to protect, to drive <i>insane</i>. Will, do you understand me?”</p><p>“Bite,” Will whimpered, helpless, desperate. “Bite me, make me yours, claim me—”</p><p>Hannibal’s knot pressed painfully wide against Will’s hole, teasing there, tormenting him, until he slipped in, deep, deeper than Will had ever felt another, and filled Will with his seed.</p><p>Will’s eyes rolled back in his head, suspended in a white-hot euphoria and whimpering like an animal. He came in Hannibal’s hand but he was thrusting back on his knot, clenching and savoring the feel of it. Not just above him but surrounding him, Hannibal’s body shook and he gasped with every twitch of his cock, breeding Will from where it was locked deep inside him.</p><p>Eventually Hannibal’s moans turned into heavy sighs and Will started to come back to reality when he registered the cool floor pressed against his burning skin. He twisted his head to the side and found his alpha’s face right next to his, lips pressed to his cheek, shuddering as he came down. Hannibal cracked his eyes open and they met Will’s.</p><p>“You bastard,” Will whispered.</p><p>Hannibal exhaled what might have been a chuckle but he was too weak to tell. He had red dripping down his forehead and smeared in his eyebrow from the vase breaking over his head just minutes before. Or was it hours? Will was lost in time, but it didn’t matter when Hannibal’s arms were around him.</p><p>It took as long for Will to mostly regain his senses as it did for the knot to deflate, and Hannibal pushed up off him carefully to pull out. Will rolled over as soon as he was free, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth and sniffing.</p><p>Separated from the embrace, he felt bare. Then Will looked up at Hannibal and saw his dazed eyes, chaotic hair, and flushed skin, and he smiled to himself. “Alpha,” he whispered.</p><p>Hannibal looked at him like Will was a siren and he had just heard his call over the waters.</p><p>“Come here.”</p><p>Hannibal didn’t waste a second. He crawled over Will again, face-to-face with his omega, expecting to devour him again. But Will instead took Hannibal’s jaw in his hand and twisted his head to the side to take his throat between his teeth in a deep mating bite.</p><p>Hannibal’s immediate response was to growl, a low warning sound, heels of his hands shoved hard against the floor as though to pull away but he… didn’t. He stayed still as his omega—his by <i>right</i>—marked him as his own, made Hannibal as helpless to him, as reliant on him, as Will was on him.</p><p>When Will pulled back, Hannibal kissed the taste of his own blood from him, one hand cradling Will’s face, the other balancing himself above him.</p><p>“Stubborn thing,” Hannibal whispered. “I would have killed the whole world for you.”</p><p>“I know,” Will nosed against him, body trembling with adrenaline and need. His cheeks were flushed pink, his eyes reflective gold with the pupils blown so wide the blue was almost impossible to see. He made a fussy sound, displeased, and squirmed beneath Hannibal until the other ducked his head down to see what the problem was.</p><p>“Get them off,” Will muttered, groaning when Hannibal sat back to work free Will’s boots and his jeans and underwear. By the time he was finished, Will was aching for him again, arms and legs wrapping tight around his alpha when Hannibal was within reach again. “Now fuck me,” he demanded.</p><p> </p><p>Will woke with a start, his entire body aching. He remembered little of the past heat, just flashes of memory, things that felt important to keep. He remembered Hannibal had marked him just as soundly, his teeth against Will’s scent gland as he’d knotted him again and Will squirmed beneath him, overcome with pleasure. He remembered that some hours on the wooden floor proved to be too uncomfortable for them both, but neither had managed to get up the stairs to bed, so they’d made a haphazard nest on the couch instead. He remembered Hannibal licking the blood from his skin, he remembered Hannibal feeding him from his fingers, he remembered how warm his purr felt when they were knotted together, Hannibal a hot, comfortable weight against him.</p><p>Now they lay in a proper nest, in what Will assumed was Hannibal’s bedroom. It smelled overwhelmingly of him, and Will buried his face in the sheets happily and breathed in the scent of his mate.</p><p>His mate; who had killed two others who had come close to Will, not even touched him, bitten him, or claimed him. His mate, who was demanding and pretentious and insufferable. His mate, who Will realized he’d been waiting for for far too long.</p><p>With a groan, Will stretched, toes pointed and fingers spread as his spine clicked and cracked and his muscles pulled tense and tight. Then he lay lax in the sheets, luxuriating in their warmth and softness.</p><p>It took him only long enough to wonder where Hannibal was for the man to appear in the doorway, a tray in his hands that held two cups of coffee and something that steamed and smelled wonderful on a place between them.</p><p>Will noted with far too much pleasure that he’d split Hannibal’s lip at some point in their brutal lovemaking, and preened.</p><p>“Hello stranger.” Will mumbled, drawing a knee up beneath the sheets and letting it drop back to the mattress again, opening his body for Hannibal to look his fill.</p><p>Hannibal smiled as he sat beside Will on their bed and set the tray in between them. He grazed his hand up Will’s thighs, soft but raked with red claw marks that matched the deeper ones on Hannibal’s back. Hannibal’s fingers just brushed the top of Will’s thighs when Will sat up and closed himself off, reaching for his coffee. “Hold on,” he said.</p><p>“Go ahead,” Hannibal replied, withdrawing his hand and taking up his own cup. “You’ll need it.”</p><p>Will smiled as he took a sip. “What day is it?” he asked.</p><p>“We mated the day before yesterday.”</p><p>Will hummed and he was about to take another drink but something compelled him and he shifted close to his mate, pressing his bare back against his chest so Hannibal could wrap an arm around his stomach and bury his nose in Will’s hair. His lips pressed against the spot where he’d marked Will two nights before and an involuntary groan escaped the omega’s mouth.</p><p>“Jack’s been calling you, I assume,” Will sighed.</p><p>“Don’t worry about that,” Hannibal murmured, kisses making their way up to Will’s ear lobe. Will he had to set his coffee back on the tray so he wouldn’t drop it. Hannibal naturally took that as an invitation and he slipped his hand between Will’s thighs, forcing them open now in a way Will wouldn’t even think of resisting. “I’ll take care of it,” he promised. “You’re mine, after all.”</p><p>Will smiled and pulled his head away just so he could face Hannibal directly, and whisper, “Only as much as you are mine.” And he pressed a kiss to his lips.</p>
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